


The Tower of Learning

by ChampagneSly



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Kink Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-03
Updated: 2011-06-05
Packaged: 2017-10-20 02:33:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/207837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChampagneSly/pseuds/ChampagneSly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of Berwald and his epic Tino crush: featuring tomato-based inspirational speeches, the wonders of Facebook, the trials and tribulations of Debate Club, irritating older brother types, cute dogs, and general high school shenanigans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Opening Arguments

**Author's Note:**

> Title borrowed from Rufus Wainwright song of same name, because I am lazy and titles are hard.

All things considered, it was a fairly average day when Berwald met Tino. It was a Monday morning, about half way through the fall term of his senior year at APH High School, the weather mild for October, the collar of his uniform was too tight and itchy, and Homeroom was, in his opinion, still a monumental waste of time. For more than three years, Berwald had wondered why the administration thought it necessary to have students spend the first twenty minutes every day listening to the same inane announcements.

He was pretty damned sure that all of his classmates would have rather slept in than listen to Mr. Carriedo wax poetic about _“what a beautiful day today was going to be and to remember they were all his precious tomatoes growing strong in his high school tomato patch.”_ (Everyone agreed that the Principle was high on something, but Mr. Carriedo always laughed and said he was only high on “life!”). Berwald was so convinced that Zero Period was a joke that he once wrote up ten pages worth of notes arguing against the need for Homeroom in the hopes that Mr. Vargas would use it as a topic in Debate Club.

There were few things that irked Berwald more than Homeroom. But “that day” (as he was soon to come to refer to it in his mind), a random Monday in October, his entire opinion on Homeroom did a 180. He’d been staring balefully at the clock, ignoring the chatter around him, counting down the minutes until he could escape, when Ms. Bruxelles walked in and announced that a new student had joined them today.

Naturally, all of the noise in the room died away as the class stopped to scrutinize the newbie. Shaken from his anti-Homeroom stupor by the change in routine, Berwald figured he should join the masses and get a look at the new kid. Staring at the front of the room, he noted the following:

 **1.**   
**Boy.**

 **2.**   
**Short, but not too short**

 **3.**   
**Such blond hair, even blonder than mine**

 **4.**   
**I don’t remember ever finding the school uniform so appealing**

 **5.**   
**Is that a beret he’s wearing?**

 **6.**   
**Big smile. Nice smile.**

 **7.**   
**Cute. Cute. Cute. Cute.**

He felt a blush creep across his cheeks when that last item finally registered. Taking a quick look at his closest neighbors, he realized that he wasn’t the only person in the room to have this opinion. He glared at Feliks, who was clearly a fan, smiling and waving at the new guy. Unmoved, Feliks just smirked at him and gestured with his un-waving hand that perhaps Berwald ought to be paying attention. Turning back towards the front of the room, Berwald put back on what he liked to think of as his “I am listening to you intently” face (no matter how many times he’d been told it was not a particularly welcoming sight to behold). He’d recovered just in time to catch the newbie’s introduction.

He watched as he rocked a bit back and forth on his heels, taking a breath before speaking in a bright voice, “Moi! I’m Tino! I won’t bother telling you my last name since it’s pretty much unpronounceable and too hard to spell for anyone who isn’t from Finland! Umm….I just moved here because my parents are diplomats and they just got a new assignment to work in the embassy. I’ve lived lots of places and I have the most adorable dog that anyone has ever seen! I’m hoping to try out for the archery team. My favorite color is blue and my favorite holiday is Christmas!” He paused, seeming to run out of steam, “Well, I guess that’s it… I hope that I get to know all of you really well this year!”

By the time his little speech had finished, Berwald had made two additions to his previous list:

 **8.**   
**Cute Finnish accent.**

 **9.**   
**Which makes the fact that he seems to talk a lot even better.**

And then Berwald did something that he had never done in his three years at APH High and the three years at APH Middle prior. When Ms. Bruxelles asked for a student to volunteer to show Tino around the school for his first few days, Berwald immediately raised his hand as high as it could go, thankful for once that his way-over average height gave him an advantage. He ignored the surprised looks from his classmates, knowing exactly what they were thinking:

  _“What the hell?! That guy hardly talks to anyone, just gives off that creepy glare and mumbles all the time! What’s he doing offering to play baby-sitter?!”_

Even Ms. Bruxelles seemed taken aback, raising an eyebrow and giving Berwald a skeptical look. But he refused to back down, though he couldn’t even really explain why to himself. It was just that damned chorus of “cute, cute, cute, cute” that kept running through his head.

Looking out over the sea of raise hands, Ms. Bruxelles laughed, and patted Tino on the shoulder, “Well, doesn’t look like you’ll have a shortage of friends here, Tino! Why don’t you go have a seat by Berwald over there---wave your hand, Berwald---and he’ll make sure you get to where you need to go today.”

Berwald dutifully waved his hand at Tino, trying his hardest to make eye contact. He was a little discouraged when Tino’s seemingly permanent smile wavered a bit as he walked up to the empty seat next to him. In an effort to reassure him, he tried to smile a bit himself, but apparently his smile had the opposite effect as Tino seemed to hesitate even more. The situation clearly deteriorating, Berwald figured this called for desperate measures. He was going to have to speak.

“Hello. Name’s Berwald Oxenstierna. I’ll show you around today. Sit.”

Tino continued to look at him as if he were a dangerous animal not to be startled. Berwald was just starting to feel the flush of embarrassment crawl up his neck when Feliks opened his loud mouth (and saved his ass from permanent banishment to Tino’s “do not approach” list), “God! Ignore him, Tino. He’s like always like that. Berwald totally stares too much and talks too little, but he’s cool. Trust me, I’m so in the know on this one!” Feliks punctuated this last with a wink at Tino, causing the return of Berwald’s unfriendly scowling face.

Feliks whacked him on the arm, “Jeez, stop that, you like total weirdo! You’re gonna freak out poor Tino on his first day, and he is like waaaaaay too cute for that!”

Poor, cute, Tino put his hands up in surrender, laughing, “Okay! Okay! I’ll sit here. Um, thanks for the..heads-up…” he trailed off, looking meaningfully at Feliks.

“Feliks!”

“Right, Feliks! And Berwald, thanks so much for offering to be my guide today,” Tino said, while sitting down, gracing Berwald with a smile that suddenly made Homeroom seem infinitely more tolerable.

Blushing, he turned his face towards the window, mumbling, “You’re welcome.” When he turned back towards the classroom, Tino was peering at the papers on his desk. The new kid looked up at Berwald, an amused sparkle in his eyes.

“Berwald Oxenstierna, huh? I think your last name is almost as hard to spell as mine! Are you from here?”

Happy that Tino had lost that look of apprehension, he quickly replied, “Family’s from Sweden.”

Berwald was even happier when this answer seemed to delight his new classmate. Tino clapped his hands, “Oh, that’s so awesome! I thought you might be Nordic too since you have a weird last name and blond hair and blue eyes like me! I’ll bet you’ve even been to Finland!”

Though flustered by this bubbly declaration, Berwald’s debater’s mind was not to be overcome. He inner-self was furiously taking notes to be analyzed later when he wasn’t trying to fight off the need to blush:

  _“Tino knows that I have blond hair and blue eyes. Ergo, Tino has been looking at me. Looking at me closely enough to know I have blue eyes.”_

He snapped out of his little cataloguing session to notice that Tino was staring at him expectantly. It seemed it was his turn to speak again. He scrambled for what to say, finally settling on, “Mn. Been to Finland. Nice place.”

At this, Tino’s smile got impossibly wider and brighter. Berwald now upgraded Homeroom to absolutely essential status.

And then Tino replied, “I’m so glad you thought it was cool! Well, now I know we’re going to be good friends!”

  _“Score!”_ Said Berwald’s mind.

 _“We’re in trouble!”_ Said his heart.  

Much of Berwald’s good mood evaporated when he took a look at Tino’s schedule only to discover that they only shared Homeroom (his new favorite class) and sixth period AP European History, the last class of day. Still, in the brief interludes between classes, serving as guide to the hallways of APH, he managed to learn quite a bit about the new guy, who seemed to think it was his job to make up for Berwald’s total lack of loquaciousness with constant talking.

Trying to remember to not stare TOO intently, (because each he time he did, Tino took a step to the side), he had learned that Tino had lived in six different countries, liked things that tasted like licorice, had been the archery team captain at his old school, had no siblings, but thought that little kids were a lot of fun.

He’d not said much in response, mostly answering with his standard “Mmn” or “Right,” but rest assured that Berwald had stored away all of this information for future review. He liked this clearer picture of the boy who had previous just been “cute.” He liked that Tino talked when he was nervous and that he stopped to help Shelly pick-up the papers she dropped. (He had bent down to help, too, but the sophomore girl just dropped the papers all over again when she saw him.)

He had been looking forward to learning even more during lunch, when he could hopefully let Tino talk at him for an uninterrupted 45 minutes, only to have his plans derailed when Tino told him that he had to spend his lunch period for the next several days taking placement tests in Mr. Carriedo’s office.

His irritation at Mr. Carriedo’s bureaucratic disruption of his plans was so great, Berwald actually interrupted Tino’s steady stream of lamentations on the trials of the transfer student, telling him, “That sucks.”

Tino sighed and nodded his head in fervent agreement before marching off like a doomed man confronting his fate.


	2. Facebook Follies

Later, at home, Berwald took stock of everything that he’d learned about Tino, shuffling it all into neat little lists. That Tino was beyond adorable was certain, that he chatty and kind was undeniable. That Berwald had the uncomfortable sensation of his heartbeat racing when he saw him was an unfortunate fact. That he wanted to know more about him and was actually looking forward to 7am the next morning just for the chance to see him again was indisputable. All of this, Berwald calculated, added up to an embarrassingly fast acting crush.

There was, however, one crucial piece of information missing. One tiny little thing that Berwald absolutely, most definitely needed to know, as soon as possible.

 _Did Tino like guys?_

He couldn’t even begin to ask himself the question of whether or not Tino would ever maybe-sort-of-potentially consider liking HIM without this knowledge. There was only one surefire place to try and find out the answer to this all important question.

 **Facebook.**

He sat at the kitchen table, laptop in front of him, ready to confront whatever answer he found. It was only after logging in, ignoring twenty “pokes” from Feliks and Feliciano, reading a message from Ludwig about their next Debate Club meeting, and typing in “Tino” in the Search bar that he realized that he didn’t know Tino’s damned last name. All he knew was that it was hard to spell, hard to pronounce, and apparently ‘weird’ like his own.

  _“Well, shit,”_ he thought, _“this makes things more difficult.”_ Fortunately, Berwald was a stubborn man and refused to be deterred by something as insignificant as not knowing a last name. He would just have to search through all the Tinos in their area and in Tino’s old hometown. 

Berwald had already gone through three pages of Tinos, beginning to wonder if maybe Finnish people didn’t use Facebook, when he was startled out his growing despondency by a hearty slap on the shoulder and an obnoxious voice in his ear, “Hey there, Little Berwald! Whatcha lookin’ at that’s so great you didn’t even notice me coming home? That’s no way to make your awesome older brother feel loved!”

Mood immediately worsening, Berwald shrugged the hand off his shoulder in irritation, mumbling in response, “None of your business. Go away.”

Sadly for him, Berwald’s brother, Erik, was also of a stubborn disposition and just laughed at his sibling while leaning closer to the screen, “Heh, a whole list of Tinos? Who ya looking for? A new guy to scare off with your creepy face?”

This time Berwald didn’t hold back, punching Erik in the arm and telling him in no certain terms to piss-off. Erik returned the favor of hitting him and calling him a fucker, but left the room, likely in search of beer, before it could escalate into one of their all out wars.

Tired and deeply annoyed, Berwald was thirty seconds from clicking the little “x” when he finally struck gold. There was Tino, smiling and holding what was admittedly a pretty cute dog, in the fourth picture from the bottom of the page.

 _“Tino Väinämöinen. Huh, he totally does have a weird, impossible to spell last name,”_ Berwald mused as he clicked on his name, eagerly waiting for the page with all the answers to his questions to load.

Once again Berwald had to suffer crushing disappointment as the page taunted him with Tino’s smiling face and the notification that **“** **Tino only shares some profile information with everyone.If you know Tino, add him as a friend or send him a message.”**

He nearly threw the computer.

Frustrated and plagued with indecision over whether or not it was too early to send Tino a friend request without seeming like a creepy stalker, Berwald decided to cut his losses and go to bed, telling himself that he’d spare no effort in getting to know Tino well enough to Facebook friend him to try to find out if he liked guys.

“ _A totally solid plan_ ,” he reassured himself as he fell asleep, already looking forward to Homeroom.

Sticking closely to his plan, Berwald made far more effort than he was accustomed to over the following days to get to know Tino better. Not just because he wanted access to the man’s Facebook page or because his hands got sweaty every time the Finn walked into Homeroom, but because he was worried about all the usurpers who had entered the playing field for Tino’s attention. It seemed that Ms. Bruxelles’ prediction on Tino’s first day was indeed coming true---he certainly did not lack for friends and admirers at his new school. Everyone, it seemed, liked Tino.

And so, fearing that if he didn’t really try, if he didn’t at least give more than one word answers to Tino’s questions, he would fade into the background noise of Tino’s many clamoring admirers, Berwald found himself looking for every possible opportunity to get closer to Tino. He came early to Homeroom, waiting for Tino to take his seat and say a sleepily charming “good morning.” For the first two days, he had been able to convince Tino that he still needed an escort to his classes before Tino smiled at him and told him that he seeing as how he was an ace with a bow and arrow he didn’t really need a bodyguard. He even managed to convince the notoriously unmovable Mr. Hague to let Tino join his group for the semester project in World History.

Though having to talk so much was tiring and not a little nerve wracking, it wasn’t all bad. He liked listening to people in general, watching their expressions, learning their stories. And so far Tino’s story had been one hell of a read. For Berwald, it was as though every time he got to unwrap another layer, Tino just became an even more appealing gift. Cute, thoughtful, a great laugh and even better smile, a sense of humor, and in an added bonus, he didn’t seem too put-off by Berwald’s inability to say more than five words at a time to him without blushing or glaring at a wall.

Now knowing just how much he really wanted Tino’s friendship (among other things that were only to be thought of outside of school hours in order to avoid any uncomfortable ‘incidents’), Berwald was desperately trying to think of the thing that would give him an in—something they could bond over, laugh about. Something to make him special.

To his great relief and jubilation, Tino inadvertently provided him with the perfect opening in Homeroom on Friday morning. Berwald had watched Tino’s steadily growing reactions of incredulity to Mr. Carriedo’s morning “inspirational talks” with no shortage of amusement and approval. On Friday, it seemed that listening to the Principal ramble cheerfully about how he knows that _his precious tomatoes need watering to grow up big and strong, but he would strongly advise against any of his darling crop using beer or wine as their fertilizer this weekend_ was the straw that broke Tino’s back.

Berwald had just finished staring out the window, his usual form of protest against vapidity before 8am, to find a scrap of paper tossed on his desk that read:

 _Seriously, is he always like this_

Snorting with fond derision, Berwald nodded his head. Tino rolled his eyes and gestured for the return of the paper. Berwald passed it back, eager to see what Tino had to say.His eagerness was totally validated when he read what Tino had written in response,

 _What a nut job. God this class is a complete waste of time. I’d rather be sleeping than listen to this crazy shit :p_

Berwald **knew** there was a reason he had liked Tino from the very moment he laid eyes on him. Not only was he gorgeous but he was also a man of good sense and correct opinions. And he had just given Berwald the perfect opening to offer up something no one else could. Digging a pen out of his bag, he scribbled down:

 _You think this is bad? I have a top ten list of Principal Tomato quotes that put this “please don’t water yourselves with booze” moment to shame. I can send it to you on Facebook if you want._

He passed the response back to Tino with as much stealth as he could manage, not wanting to risk the discovery of their illicit note exchange. He watched with some anxiety as other boy read what he had written, only relaxing when he saw Tino smirk and quickly scratch out a response:

 _That sounds AWESOME. Totally msg me on FB. I can’t wait to read it—thanks!_ _:)_

And for the second time that week, all Berwald could think was “Score!"

Later, Berwald found himself opening up Tino’s Facebook profile for the thirtieth time that week. This time, however and much to his pleasure, he clicked on the “Add as Friend” button without hesitation, copying and pasting the Top Ten List of Principle Carriedo’s Moments of Inspirational Fail into the personal message. He had never been so glad that he had decided to create that list as part of his anti-Homeroom debate prep. He hit send and then told himself that he had to wait at least an hour before checking back to see if his request had been accepted.

He lasted fifteen minutes. Came back again after twenty. Checked on his phone after 35, and then finally, after 45 minutes of waiting, there it was—open access to Tino’s profile.

Not surprisingly, Tino had listed all of the same interests that he’d been so enthusiastic about sharing at school. Berwald was relieved to see that his relationship status was single, though it also didn’t help answer his burning question. Neither did his scrutiny of his personal quotations or favorite links.

He looked through countless sets of family photos, enchanted by how happy Tino looked with his parents at Christmas, enjoyed the sight of him pretending to hold up the Leaning Tower of Pisa, and he even cracked a rare smile when he looked through the many snapshots of Tino cuddling with his dog. Berwald also browsed through the pictures from his previous high school--Tino hanging out with other happy teenagers, posing for the camera and laughing, arms thrown around each other. His wall was covered in posts from old friends exclaiming how much they missed him and hoped he would come back to hang out with them again soon; Tino’s replies echoing their sentiments, messages cluttered with little hearts and smiley faces.

All of a sudden, Berwald felt ashamed of his single minded quest to try and figure out whether or not Tino liked guys so he could know if he had a chance. He’d been so focused on memorizing the details and looking for a way to make a connection that he had missed the questions he should have been asking all along as someone who wanted to care for and protect Tino:

 _“How are you? Really?”_   
_“Do you miss your friends back home?”_

To know about him was one thing, Berwald thought, to actually know him was another. Resolved to do more than just look for “ins” and “opportunities,” Berwald changed his plan of action to include making sure that he was really trying to be a good friend to Tino, to watch out for his feelings instead of just pursuing them.

Emboldened, he opened up a new message.

 _Hey._

 _If you liked that list and you want to see more of Mr. Carriedo in action, join me and the guys at our next Debate practice on Tuesday after school. We’d be really happy to have your company. And I guarantee it will be worth it—I’d tell you why but that would spoil the surprise._

 _Later,  
B._

Berwald spent the weekend trying not to check his messages obsessively, but found it difficult to resist when he got the first response no more than an hour after he sent it. He nearly jumped out his chair when the notification came through on his iPhone during dinner with his brother. Though he preferred not to show any sort of emotion in front of Erik, lest he give the man an opportunity to be annoying, the temptation to see what Tino had to say was too strong.  Attempting subtlety, he used one hand to pull up the message while continuing to stuff fries in his mouth with the other hand. What he hadn’t accounted for was the blushing. Naturally, Erik wasn’t deceived and immediately started cackling and questioning Berwald about this “mystery dinner interrupter that was so interesting they merited the unbelievable rudeness of ignoring big brothers who had worked hard to stop at the fast food joint for their dinner.”

“Aww, look, you’re even blushing! Damn, I need to take a picture of your face to send to Christian. He’s never gonna believe me when I tell him little Berwald’s got a boyfriend.”

Berwald shoved his chair back from the table, sending his deadliest glare to his brother as he stood up to dump his dishes in the sink, “There’s no boyfriend. None of your business, anyways, asshole.”

He immediately retreated to the safety of his bedroom, letting the sounds of his brother’s obnoxious laughter fade into the background. He locked the door for good measure and flopped down on the bed, heart tripping at an unnatural speed as he finally was able to turn his undivided attention to his message. He’s only gotten as far as the “Moi, Berwald!” opening before Erik had initiated his little cockblocking session and was anxious to see what else the note had in store.

 _Moi, Berwald!_

 _OMG, that list was hysterical—seriously, I am dying over here. My parents think I lost my mind. You absolutely have to tell me the story behind #6:_

 _“My little tomatoes should not have locked me out of my office. That wasn’t very nice. Tomatoes should love and be kind to all, especially to their gardener who worked so hard to nourish them with learning and affection.”_

 _Were you involved in this, Berwald? Please tell me you were._

 _I’m down to check out Debate Club on Tuesday, though I have to confess I’m surprised that such a talkative guy like you is on the team ;)_

 _-T_

Unable to keep from smiling, Berwald rolled over and quickly began typing out a response:

 _Ha-ha, very funny. Yeah, I don’t do much of the talking during the debates (Ludwig and Toris are our go-to guys for that, you’ll meet them on Tues.), but I’ll have you know that I’m pretty good at putting writing up a good argument or rebuttal. Maybe I’ll even let you have the privilege of seeing me in action one day :P_

 _The story behind #6 is pretty great, not gonna lie…but I can’t tell you about it until after the meeting._

 _-Berwald the Debate King_

The next morning he woke to find another response from Tino, making his Saturday that much brighter.

 _Your majesty—_

 _Now who’s being the funny one?_ _:)_

 _Please, please, please tell me the story! I am not sure I can wait until Tuesday!_

 _BTW, do you know of a good park where I could take Hanatamago to play? She’s been cooped up inside all week!”_

 _-T_

Berwald let go of the anxiety he’d been nursing all night, worried that maybe Tino wouldn’t find his sense of humor appealing. He’d been told more than once that since he was so terse and intimidating in person that people were often shocked to discover he actually was capable of humor. He sent his reply while eating breakfast, keeping an eye out for his intrusive brother.

 _No. You’ll never get it out of me. Don’t even try. But because I am a magnanimous ruler, I’ll give you a hint._

 _Believe it or not, there is something Mr. Carriedo is even more passionate about than making fail-tastic inspirational speeches._

 _There’s a cool dog park down on Stockholm Ave—do you know where that is?_

He got his answer while in the shower and managed to get shampoo in his eyes during the ensuing scramble to finish as quickly as possible so as to read the message. Cursing his own lameness, he fumbled to get dry enough to actually handle the phone.

All self-deprecating thoughts ceased immediately when he read

 _Never say never! I can be VERY persuasive when I want to be ;) I am sure there is something I could do to get it out of you!_

Berwald had to contemplate getting back into the shower and turning the water on cold to get rid of the mental images that statement had conjured. Shaking himself awake from him fevered daydreams of persuasive!Tino, he found that the message had something even better on offer:

 _The dog park sounds perfect! Wanna come and hang out with me and Hanatamago? You’ll love her, I promise (and if you don’t I’ll be forced to kick your ass)._

 _Text me and let me know if you can meet up, say at 11am? My number’s 555-426-2883._

 _-T_

 _Ps—Something than man likes more than inspiration speeches? I shudder at the thought._

Berwald could hardly believe his good fortunate. A chance to hang out with Tino solo? A phone number? That he didn’t have to find a way to ask for? It seemed as though this was his lucky day. 

He immediately texted in the affirmative, carefully saving Tino’s number to his contacts list, resisting the urge to do a little happy dance. He spent the remaining time before 11am trying to figure out what was best to wear for hanging out with one’s new friend (objection of infatuation) in the dog park. He scribbled a note to Erik that he was going out with a friend for the morning before leaving.

He pulled into the parking lot ten minutes before 11, trying to quell the insistent butterflies in his stomach. He’d just succeeded in telling them to be quiet when Tino came strolling into the park, dressed in a fetching blue sweater and the same beret from his first day of school, looking so inviting that the butterflies multiplied tenfold and started fluttering in his heart as well.

 _“Don’t be a spaz. Don’t be a spaz,”_ he thought to himself as he opened his car door, making his way towards Tino and his fluffy little dog.

Hearing his approach, Tino turned and waved to Berwald, shouting his greetings over the excited yelping of the dog. Berwald returned the greeting, bending down to pet Hanatamago, letting her slobber enthusiastically over his large hands.

Tino smiled, “Ha, that means she likes you! Slobber is how she shows affection.”

“That’s good,” Berwald replied, wiping his hands on his jeans.

“This place is great,” Tino said as he looked around at the other dogs running around the enclosure, “what do you think, shall we let her off the leash for a bit of a run about?”

Berwald shrugged and nodded, admiring the view as Tino bent down to unhook Hanatamago’s leash from her collar. Once freed, the little dog immediately took off in pursuit of a hulking Great Dane.

Tino laughed at her antics, “She totally thinks she’s a big dog.”

Berwald grunted in response, enjoying watching Tino watch her. After a few beats of silence, he turned back towards Tino, asking him, “Your first week here go ok?”

Tino gave him a smile in return, speaking softly, “It’s sweet of you to ask, most people don’t. Yeah, everyone’s been really nice and helpful—especially you, Berwald. But I’m pretty used to moving around by now. This is my third school in four years, so I’ve learned how to adapt to new places.”

Blushing from the compliments, Berwald turned away, feigning interest in Hanatamago’s latest pursuit. He paused before responding, “Must be hard.”

Tino just hmmed in response. They lapsed into a comfortable silence—Tino looking at his dog, Berwald appreciating the way Tino looked in the sun, glad that he was here sharing this quiet moment.

Eventually, Hanatamago tired out, returning to flop gracelessly at her master’s feet. Berwald was immediately intrigued by the mischievous look that crossed Tino’s face as he bent down to pick her up. He was right to be on alert as he soon found himself on the receiving end of both Tino and Hanatamago making the most adorably piteous faces ever imagined. Tino’s eyes were open and pleading, his bottom lip deliberately pushed out in a pout so compelling it should have been illegal.

 _“What the hell?!”_ Berwald’s heart began to race, his skin flushing, his mind torn between running for hills and wanting to take that bottom lip between his teeth.

He thought he was going to pass out when Tino fluttered his eye lashes at him.

“Oh, please, please, Berwald. Won’t you tell me the story behind #6? It would mean soooo much to me,” Tino said in a wheedling voice, Hanatamago echoing her master with a plaintive little yelp.

Not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed, Berwald rolled his eyes.

“No. You have to wait until Tuesday.”

Tino dropped the act, laughing as he said, and “Well, shit. If you can resist my super-secret-Tino-Hana double-team-pout move, I guess I have no other option but to surrender gracefully and wait.”

“Damn right,” Berwald growled in response before joining Tino in laughter.

He was still smiling when he returned home several hours later, only to have all his happiness erased by the sight of Erik and his cranky best friend Christian on his computer, looking at Tino’s Facebook page. Clearly they had been snooping through his history. He walked into the room, immediately slamming the laptop shut and glaring at his brother.

Erik just smirked in response, needling Berwald further by crowing, “Tino’s a cutie. Sorry for prying little brother, but we just had to know who it was that was blowing up little Berwald’s phone all night, didn’t we, Christian?”

Placid expression unchanging, Christian replied scornfully, “Idiot. Don’t lump me in with your stupidity. Cute? Hardly. Your taste is ridiculous, much like you are, Erik.” Diatribe over, he stalked out of the room, leaving an enraged Berwald alone with his brother.

“Oooh, I think he’s jealous. Maybe I should friend Tino, too, huh? Let him get a look at the hot brother in this family? What do you say, share and share alike?”




He spent the rest of the day trying to rid himself of the nauseating thought of his brother anywhere near Tino.


	3. #6

By the time Tuesday rolled around, Berwald had worked  himself up to a fever pitch of nerves, concerned that something would go wrong at Debate Club and Tino would be so let down after all the build-up that he’d never trust Berwald to show him a good time again.

After classes had finished, he and Tino walked down towards the multi-purpose room with Feliciano, who was excitedly telling Tino all about his brother, Lovino Vargas, who worked at APH and had the dubious pleasure of acting as Debate Club coach.

“How did Big Brother come to teach here? Oh! That’s a good story! Principal Carriedo was his T.A. in college a few years ago. The Principal was finishing his Masters in teaching while Big Brother was getting his B.A. Did you know he went to college with Ms. Bruxelles and Mr. Hague, too? Anyways, when Big Brother graduated, he moved back home to look after me when Grandpa got sick. Principal Carriedo was so happy to have Big Brother around again that he gave him a job here last year even though Big Brother slammed the door in face lots of times before saying yes! He’s so silly!

He got to be Debate coach because Principal Carriedo says that Big Brother loves to argue with him so much that he was the only person he could trust to teach his precious tomatoes how to debate. Big Brother told Principal Carriedo that he was a stupid bastard who shouldn’t be allowed within twenty feet of impressionable minds ripe for warping by his idiocy, but that he would take the job so he could keep an eye on the potato bastard!”

Tino blinked and looked to Berwald for help. Berward just shrugged as if to say, “This is old news to me. You’re on your own with this one.”

“Potato bastard?” Tino questioned with some trepidation, fearing another 5 minute explanation to a simple question. As he asked the question, they walked into the room to find Ludwig on the receiving end of one of Mr. Vargas’ infamous rants. 

Feliciano shook his head, pointed at Ludwig and replied with exaggerated sadness, “Poor Ludwig. Lovino calls him potato bastard when no one else is around to hear it and get him fired. Big Brother doesn’t like him.”

“Yeah, I can see that!” Tino exclaimed, watching Ludwig turn red as he listened to Mr. Vargas criticize his debate style, his shoes, and debase his country of origin. “But why? Ludwig seems totally nice, if a little uptight.”

Recovering from his momentary despondency, Feliciano brightened and happily told Tino, “Because I like him, that’s why! Big Brother is so silly and overprotective!”

Tino nodded in understanding before letting himself be dragged to sit down next to Feliciano as Berwald joined Ludwig and Toris at the front of the room with Mr. Vargas. Before he left, Berwald mumbled to Tino, “Give it a few minutes.”

“Give what a few minutes?” Tino asked, confused. But Berwald was already gone.

They’d been going over the prep points for the next debate competition for no more than ten minutes, during which time Mr. Vargas got increasingly agitated and annoyed. “ _He’s running late,”_ Berwald thought, _“oh, this is going to be even better than usual!”_

He’d just finished that gleeful train of thought when the doors to the room burst open, followed by an enthusiastic cry of “Lovino!” as Principal Carriedo barreled in, hurriedly explaining, “I am so sorry I am late! Oh, don’t look so angry, my little henchman! Were you worried I had forgotten about our weekly date? Never fear, Boss is here to support and encourage you as you teach these young ones how to be as amazing as you are when you get angry and argue with me!”

Berwald watched with satisfaction as Tino’s eyes grew impossibly large as he turned towards the door, disbelief at what he was witnessing clearly written on his face.

 _Showtime._

Mr. Vargas turned an unflattering shade of red, throwing his papers down before shouting at Principial Carriedo, “What date?! Get the hell out of here, you unprofessional bastard!”

Principal Carriedo just continued floating towards the front of the room, grin unchanged as he protested, “But, Lovino, you know Boss loves to watch you in your element! You get so passionately red that I want to pick you for myself! It makes Boss so happy to see his little treasure taking such good care of his precious students!”

Mr. Vargas growled dangerously, practically vibrating with anger as he moved towards the object of his ire, “Shut the hell up, you son of a bitch!”

Principal Carriedo gasped, “Now, Lovino don’t say such things! Bad words aren’t good for little tomato ears.”

“I said shut the hell up and get out! Like I give a shit about your bullshit tomatoes or you! I’m only here to watch out for my idiot brother.”

Principal Carriedo laughed and took another step towards Mr. Vargas, “Oh, Lovino. You are so cute! Have you been teaching your team this technique?”

Lovino looked at him suspiciously, “What are you talking about, you ignorant overly-excitable asshole? What technique?”

Principal Carriedo’s grin widened even more, “Telling the opposite of the truth, of course! I bet it helps the team win all the time!” Ignoring the wave of rage that was about to strike, he continued, “Aren’t you glad that Boss comes to see you and help you practice? I’m so happy to help my little treasure help his tomatoes to grow!”

At this last, Mr. Vargas finally snapped, forcibly removing the still smiling Principal Carriedo from the room, yelling that the meeting was over.

As the door shut with a vengeance, Berwald looked over to see Tino’s mouth hanging open in shock. He walked over, patting him on the shoulder as sat down. “Told it ya was worth the wait.”   




Tino smiled weakly, “Is it always like this?”

Feliciano took the opportunity to cheerily respond, “Oh, yes! Every week Principal Carriedo comes to give his love to Big Brother. Isn’t it sweet?”

Berwald and Tino exchanged a look that clearly said “more like demented,” but decided to humor the younger Vargas.

They all turned when the door opened again, though only Tino was surprised to see Feliks instead of Mr. Vargas or Principal Carriedo.

As he joined the group, Feliks asked, “So, if they’re like finished with the foreplay, what do you say we call this meeting a bust and go get some snacks? I’m totally starving!”

Berwald considered the day a resounding success when Tino said yes to hanging out with the guys. Once he had finished laughing so hard he cried, that is.

After the group had stuffed their faces various processed foods and downed unconscionable amounts of high-fructose corn syrup, Tino finally turned to Berwald and asked the question.

Leaning back in his chair, cheeks flushed from laughter, Tino cornered Berwald with a sly smirk and demanded, “So, Berwald, now that I’ve witnessed the twisted tango of Principal Carriedo and Feliciano’s cranky brother, I think it’s time to cough up the goods.”

Naturally, all the guys stopped talking and turned towards Berwald as well, ratcheting up the drama of the scene. Berwald crossed his arms and pointedly looked away, before grumbling, “Ask Ludwig and Toris. They tell it better.”

“Ask me what?” Ludwig queried, looking suspicious.

Tino rolled his eyes at Berwald before replying to Ludwig, “Berwald here showed me the most hilarious list of Carriedo quotes. In particular, I am deeply curious as to the background of item #6, something about locking the man out of his office?”

Toris looked up and groaned, “Jesus, Berwald! You didn’t! That story was supposed to stay within the Debate Club. It’s so embarrassing!”

In an attempt to distract everyone from his blush, Berwald leveled his best glare at Toris, before Feliks once again unknowingly intervened on his behalf by haughtily telling Toris, “Oh lighten up! That story is way hysterical and Feliciano and I are both privy to the dirty details and we’re like not even part of your little club.”

Unable to resist Feliks’ angry pout, Toris sighed, “Fine. Don’t look at me like that. Ok, Tino, you’re new here but clearly you’ve picked up on the fact that there are some very unorthodox goings-on. Exhibit A being the little song and dance you got to see earlier. Well, like Feliciano said, this pretty much happens every week. Carriedo shows up, pisses off Vargas, and then they go storming off together. There is actually reason that this happens without fail.”

Taking a breath and pointing at Feliciano, Toris continued, “This guy here is convinced that his brother is secretly in love with our dear Principal and for reasons unknown finds their twisted dynamic romantic.”

“But it is romantic!” Feliciano interjected before being shushed by Ludwig.

“See? Anyways, pretty soon after Vargas started teaching here, Feliciano gets the bright idea to forge Principal Carriedo a little love note from Mr. Vargas and leave it on his desk, hoping that it will finally get the two together. What he didn’t know is that at the same time he was leaving the faux declaration, Principal Carriedo was busy giving an overly enthusiastic greeting to Mr. Vargas.

This would have been par for the course, but he made the mistake of doing it in front of Ms. Bruxelles and Mr. Hague, who, as old friends, took it upon themselves to mock Mr. Vargas for the rest of the day. Pissed beyond belief, Vargas gets on the P.A. system to deliver the rant to end all rants against Carriedo, more or less stating that he hated the man more than Germans, shitty pasta, and cheap shoes combined.  He sounded so serious when he told the whole school, _“I want everyone to know that I 100% despise that bastard, Antonio Carriedo!”_ that Feliciano began to doubt his crappy plan.”

“Hey!” Feliciano pouted.

“Sorry, dude, but it was like totally a bad idea,” Feliks said giving the sad Italian a small pat on the back.

“As I was saying,” Toris said, “he came to the shocking conclusion that when his brother found out what he had done he’d be a dead man. So, of course, before Debate Club starts he comes crying to Ludwig that he needs help to break back into Carriedo’s office and steal back the note. Being unable to resist crying Feliciano, Ludwig agrees and somehow ropes Berwald and me in to help.”

Coughing and looking pointedly away from Feliciano’s adoring gaze, Ludwig picked up the thread of the story, “Good military strategy would dictate that I needed a lookout and a distraction. Berwald was to serve as lookout, while Toris created a distraction near the secretary’s desk so I could slip in. All of this worked perfectly well until I actually got into the office and discovered a total hellhole of a mess. Clearly Carriedo does not believe in cleaning or filing.”

Ludwig shook his head in disgust before continuing, “Realizing that the secretary had gone off with Toris, I got Berwald to come help me search. We were elbows deep in his papers when we heard Carriedo coming. We panic, and Berwald literally throws himself across the desk to close and lock the door. We then proceed to hide under the desk, hoping that someone as idiotic as him would neglect to actually carry keys.  Fortunately for our school disciplinary records, he doesn’t. Of course, he tries opening the door over and over again, actually wondering aloud if the damned thing is mad at him and then proceeds to sing to it.”

“No way. You have to got to be kidding me,” Tino exclaimed, engrossed in the tale.

“Mm. It’s true. He actually sang “open sesame”, before coming to the conclusion that someone had locked him out.” Berwald confirmed.

Toris snorted with laughter, “So at this point, I am coming back down the hall and I see Carriedo pressed up against his office door. Not seeing Berwald’s frowing face anywhere, I figure these two morons have managed to lock themselves in. Knowing that the secretary is like thirty seconds behind me and she’ll definitely have a key to let the other moron in, I’m freaking out, wondering how I can get Carriedo out of the office…”

“And then what?!”

“And then he did it.” Berwald and Ludwig said in unison.

“DID WHAT?!”

Sighing as if nothing more horrible had ever transpired, Berwald lamented, “Told Principal Carriedo that Mr. Vargas had asked him to come watch Debate Club practice.”

Echoing Berwald’s doomed tone, Ludwig continued, “The man was so ecstatic he took off running down the hall.”

Several moments of absolute silence passed before Tino doubled over with laughter, “And I take it he’s been coming ever since?”

Ludwig shook his head, “Yes. And to top it off, Berwald and I had to crawl out of a very small window to escape being caught by the secretary. I ripped my pants and we never did find the note.”

Still giggling, Tino asked, “So what happened when Carriedo found it?”

“Oh, he never did!” Feliciano chirped, “The love note was in my pocket! I got distracted by something shiny in his office and ended up leaving Antonio our grocery list.”

Berwald turned to Tino, who was once again laughing so hard tears were forming at the corners of his eyes, “And that is the story of #6.”

Much to Berwald’s shock and delight, Tino put his head on his shoulder, still shaking with laughter, before looking up at him, face shining with amusement and said, “Totally worth the wait.”

Not long after the revelation of the Debate Club’s moment of fail, Berwald found himself walking out of the school with Tino, feeling very satisfied as he observed at Tino’s happy smile. It occurred to him that he had no idea how Tino got to and from school and he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to extend what had so far been a golden afternoon.

“Do you need a ride home?”

“Oh! I normally take the bus, but if it’s on your way….” Tino responded, clearly pleased with the prospect of not having to take transit.

“No problem. Where do you live?”

“Over on University, near the mall. Is that close to you?”

Actually, Tino’s house was more than twenty minutes in the opposite direction, but, Berwald told himself, _“What’s ten miles between friends?”_

“Pretty close. C’mon, I’ll drive you home.”

In the car, Tino went quiet, staring out the window. Berwald took note of his pensive gaze, wondering if something had gone wrong since the parking lot. He fretted, wondering if maybe Tino was sick of him, wishing he’d taken the bus instead of being trapped in a car with someone who sucked at small talk. Tino was unhappy. In his car. With him.

Palms sweating on the steering wheel, he cleared his throat, getting Tino’s attention.

“You OK?” He said, keeping his eyes focused on the road, heart jumping into his throat.

Tino sighed, “Yeah, I’m fine. This afternoon was really great…but it made me miss my old school, having that place that I knew I belonged.”

Berwald kicked himself for not thinking of that, mumbling, “Always welcome to hang with us. Lunch, after school, at meetings, whenever.”

“Really?”

“We told you the secret of #6. You’re one of us now. Even if you don’t want to be.”

Tino laughed a little, somber mood seemingly broken and smiled at Berwald, “So I’m stuck with you losers, huh?”

Berwald grunted in the affirmative, chancing a look at Tino, who winked and said, “Well, in that case, I’m looking forward to it!”

Berwald attempted not to run the car off the road.

 


	4. Slings and Arrows

As the weeks passed on and the weather got colder, Berwald was thrilled beyond all measure that Tino seemed to take his invitation to heart. Much to his pleasure, Tino came to Debate Club every Tuesday and hung out after for the post-game analysis of Principal Carriedo and Mr. Vargas’s latest match. And even though his gas bill was suffering, Berwald happily drove forty minutes round trip to take Tino home.

Even better, when Tino wasn’t sitting with his teammates from Archery, he joined Berwald for lunch and somehow Feliks, Feliciano, Ludwig and Toris always seemed to leave the open seat next to him. Though it was distracting and caused the butterflies to flutter so hard it sometimes made eating a challenge, Berwald wouldn’t have traded feeling the warm press of Tino’s thigh against his for anything. When he’d managed to calendar out which days Tino was be there, Berwald packed licorice in his lunch even though it was far from his favorite treat, so he could offer them to Tino and subsequently enjoy teasing Tino for his shameless gluttony.

On weekends when he didn’t have to travel for a Debate match, Tino would text and invite him to go walk Hanatamago or explore the town. It was so nice that Berwald couldn’t even bring himself to care when Erik harassed him for constantly walking around with either a “pansy-assed waiting for the Missus to call face” or a “puke inducing lovey-dovey face”. (They did, however, get into several fist fights when Erik told Berwald, “He sort of understood because he’d hit that too!”)

When he had the misfortune of walking into the multi-purpose room in search of his missing textbook only to find Principal Carriedo and Mr. Vargas making out with a passion that would put porn stars to shame, the first person he thought to text (once he recovered from the shock) was Tino:

 **I need brain bleach. You will never believe what I just saw.**

 _Tell me!!!!_

 **Vargas and the Tomato hardcore sucking face. So gross…and yet so predictable.**

 _No fucking way!!! LOLOLOL. I guess Carriedo is more of a masochist than we thought!_

 **Something more disturbing just occurred to me. Can you imagine how bad his speech is gonna be tomorrow?**

 _NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! The humanity!!!_

Berwald spent the remainder of the evening chatting online with Tino, co-writing a new Top Ten List of Things Carriedo is Likely to Say After Getting Some. They were both appalled and gratified the next day when Principal Carriedo spent five minutes extolling the virtues of “never giving up on a particularly stubborn plant, even if it tells you it doesn’t need water or sunlight or songs to grow and be happy, for if you are a great gardener and love your little stubborn tomato unconditionally one day it will get so ripe and juicy that it can’t help but burst in your mouth.”

As they shared knowing and grossed out look in Homeroom, Berwald realized just how much Tino had quickly become first in his thoughts. And in his heart.

It was a chilly morning at the start of November and Berwald was fumbling with the combination to his locker. He’d been cursing under his breath when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Irritated by his lock problems, he turned and glared at his unwitting victim.

Naturally, it was Tino, who quickly took a step back, held up his hands and stammered an apology, “Um, sorry to bother you, Berwald.”

Now deeply annoyed with himself, Berwald softened his face as much as possible, mumbling, “No, no. What’s up?”

Much to his distress, Tino still looked nervous, like a frightened but seriously cute rabbit. He started babbling, like when they first met, “Ah, um, I was wondering if maybe you might come to my archery meet this Friday. It’s my first one and neither of my folks can come and I’m nervous. I know I was the champion at my old school and there’s all this pressure and I don’t want to let people down and it would be really good to have someone in the audience to watch me. I know it’s a lame thing to do on a Friday night but it would really mean a lot to mean if you could be there.”

Flushed redder than the last time he’d run the mile, Berwald was glad that Tino was too busy looking anywhere but at him. _“He wants me there. Me!”,_ his thoughts crowed gleefully.

Also looking anywhere but at Tino, Berwald managed to reply, “Course I’ll come.”

He nearly fainted when Tino hugged him out of appreciation before running down the hall, shouting his thanks.

Though it was highly unlikely that Berwald would have found any activity involving Tino to be “lame,” it turned out that watching Tino compete with the archery team was without doubt one of the most awesome ways he could have contemplated spending a Friday night. Even though the match took place on a bitterly cold evening and the metal bleachers made for tortuous seating, Berwald wouldn’t have traded his frozen ass or chapped lips for anything.

Before the match started, Tino had run over to him, nearly vibrating with nerves, an anxious watery smile firmly in place.

“Moi, Berwald! Thanks for coming. I know it’s really cold and these bleachers really suck so if you need to leave early I totally understand even though it would be really great if you could stay and I’m really sorry for asking…”

Though he never wanted to not hear anything Tino had to say, Berwald couldn’t let him go on rambling, thinking he had any reason to be sorry. He leaned over the railing of the stands, placing a large comforting hand on Tino’s shoulder, saying, “Hey. Glad to be here. I know you’ll be great.”

It seemed to do the trick, as Tino stilled, before briefly placing his hand over the gloved one resting on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. Berwald’s heart rate tripled at this tiny moment of handholding. He wished momentarily for the ability to freeze time.

Tino smiled softly at him, “You’re the best, Berwald. You always know just what to say. OK! I gotta go—wish me luck?”

Barely able to breath, let alone speak, the thought _“I’ll always be here to support you,”_ choking in his throat, Berwald had to settle for nodding in response before Tino took off towards the field.

Settling down to watch the competition, rubbing his hands together for warmth, he found himself entranced by Tino’s skill, the way in which he held his body in perfect stillness, the precision with which he struck the target. He wondered idly what it would be like to be the target of Tino’s undivided attention, knowing that he would gladly suffer all his slings and arrows.

In an added bonus, Tino also looked amazingly good amazingly good in the blue and white team uniform. And when the match finished, APH reigning triumphant, Tino immediately turned towards the stands, giving Berwald such a smile that it warmed him entirely, banishing all thoughts of his cold posterior.

He even got another hug when Tino emerged from the locker room, the thrill of victory still written all over his face, as he gleefully exclaimed, “God, that felt good! I haven’t been that on point in forever! I think you must be my good luck charm!”

After such an introduction to archery, and as official good luck charm, Berwald could hardly be faulted for eagerly attending the next two matches, a development that also went over quite well with Tino, much to Berwald’s satisfaction. And though he was glad when the rest of the guys decided to start coming out and showing their support too, there was a teeny-tiny-macroscopic little part of him that was annoyed to have lost the privilege of the being the only one Tino turned towards during the match, looking for support and encouragement when the stakes were high.

In spite of this one little thing, Berwald moved archery firmly to the top of his list of “things I never thought I would be into,” right after Homeroom. In fact, he was busy contemplating whether or not archery was one of the greatest sports ever invented when he came across something horrible enough to make him reconsider his opinion.

As he approached the entrance to the practice fields, he was stopped dead in his tracks by the stomach curdling sight of Tino with standing behind a giggling Feliks, who was attempting to hold the bow and arrow, arms wrapped around his shoulders and their fingers intertwined over the arch of the bow. 

And though he flattered himself a rational man and knew that there was doubtless some innocent and reasonable explanation for what he saw, he could barely hold himself back from storming across the field and shoving Feliks away. As it was, his face darkened with the most dangerous and potentially deadly glare he’d ever thought to summon, all of his rage directed towards Feliks (who had miraculously transformed in his mind from ditzy annoyance to predatory man-whore).

Of course it was at this very moment that Feliks chose to turn his head in Berwald’s direction, receiving the full blunt of Berwald’s angry stare. Feliks promptly yelped and scuttled away from Tino, breaking Berwald’s vengeful concentration.  Startled out of his murderous thoughts and unwilling to have Tino see him in such a state, Berwald threw a parting dirty look at the now very intimidated Feliks before making a hasty exit. 


	5. Friends in the Know

By the time he’d arrived home, his temper had calmed but his mood had not. He knew, in his heart of hearts, that Feliks had long been nursing feelings for Toris, but despaired that perhaps Feliks, who was known to be flighty and attracted to pretty things, had transferred his affections. And he could hardly blame Tino—Feliks was cute and blond, bubbly and charming. Everything Berwald was not, excepting the hair color.  

He’d only been pacing for ten minutes when his phone rang. Hoping that it was Tino, Berwald was annoyed to find himself disappointed and further aggravated when the caller ID read “Toris.” He contemplated letting it ring to voicemail, but Toris knew how much he hated talking on the phone and would only call if it were something important.

Voiding his voice of all emotion, Berwald answered, “Toris?”

 “Berwald. Hi.” Toris returned tiredly.

There was a long gap of silence, though Berwald thought he heard some sort of whispering on Toris’ end.

Annoyed, he asked, “Did you want something? I hate the phone.”

A sigh echoed across the line before Toris replied, sounding as though he was reading from cue cards, “I know, I know. But…um…well, Feliks is making me… _HEY STOP THAT. QUIT POKING ME_!!”

Berwald held the phone away from his ear in confusion as he listened to what sounded like a scuffle, only to return it to its proper place when Toris resumed, this time slightly out of breath, “Anyways, Feliks asked me to call you since apparently you scared him with your little ‘eat-shit-and-die’ look after school. As he’s currently crouching behind me and unable to speak for himself, he’s asked that I tell you… _Will you shut up? You’re the one that insisted on this farce_ …. as I was saying, he asked that I tell you, and I quote:

 **“What you saw is totally not what you think it is. Tino was just like showing me proper archery form. You know I would never do you like that!”**

Unsure whether to be amused by his friends’ antics, relieved by what he’d heard, or embarrassed to have been caught in such a lame situation to begin with, Berwald merely replied, “What are you talking about?”

He heard Feliks clamoring in the background to know what he’d said and Toris’ communicated his reply verbatim in a long suffering tone before Feliks demanded the phone.

“What do you mean, what are you talking about?!! You totally looked at me like I was Principal Carriedo making the grave error of wearing white after Labor Day!”

Genuinely confused, Berwald asked, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Ugh, don’t be dense. You saw Tino and me in what looked like a totally compromising position and then tried to use the Force to kill me before running off.”

“…..” Sometimes, Berwald figured, it was best not to implicate oneself, but Feliks was not to be deterred.

“Look, you know I would never ever try to creep on your man like that! I think Tino’s awesome and adorable, like a little bro or something, but I also know how you feel about him.”

Berwald felt his face flush and his heart speed up.

 _Feliks knew how he felt?!_ , he panicked before attempting to answer nonchalantly,

“How I feel?”

Feliks chuckled fondly, “Umm, yeah…you know, like how you are totally in love with him?”

 _SHIT!_

Even more alarmed, Berwald figured it was best to use a time honored debate tactic and demand evidence before making any sort of admission.

“Why do you think that? We’re just friends. Best friends.”

Feliks paused, before taking a more serious tone, “Dude, we all know. You blush when he comes near you. You sit outside in sub-zero temperatures to watch him shoot arrows. You drive him home even though its twenty minutes out of your way. It’s pretty much obvious that you think the sun shines out of his ass.”

Berwald had to sit down on his bed, drained of all strategic responses, embarrassed and worried. He was silent so long that Feliks tentatively asked, “Um, you still there?”

Clutching the phone so hard his knuckles had gone white, Berwald asked tremulously, “Do you think he knows, too?”

“Nah, I think he’s like oblivious.”

Berwald offered up prayers of thanks to every god he’d ever heard mentioned. He attempted to put some force back into his voice before commanding Feliks, “You won’t tell him, right?”

Feliks squeaked with outrage, “What? I would like never do that!”

“Good,” Berwald exhaled, feeling his heart rate decrease to survivable levels until Feliks cleared his throat and said:

“But look, maybe YOU should tell him. I don’t exactly think he’d be unwilling to hear what you had to say.”

“You think he likes me back?” Berwald asked quietly.

Feliks paused before answering, a sign that he was clearly taking the question to heart.

“I can’t say for sure, but I can definitely tell you that he does not hate you and that some that sun-shining-out-of-asses feeling might be mutual. I can’t promise that he feels the way you do. But ya know, this is senior year, and we like don’t have that much time before we’re all outta here and your moment will have gone. What do you have to lose?”

Berwald raked his hand through his hair out of frustration, knowing what Feliks said was true and yet paralyzed by the fear of rejection and the possibility of losing what part of Tino he had.

“Yeah,” was all the reply he managed, not interested in revealing his weakness to Feliks.

Feliks sighed, “Just like think about it....and please do not ever glare at me like that again. Way freaky bro, way freaky.”

Grunting his acquiescence, Berwald hung up the phone, exhausted though his mind insisted on running a mile a minute.

 _“ Jesus. Feliks says everyone knows. What the hell am I supposed to do? It’s only a matter of time before Tino either figures it out, if he doesn’t know already, or someone tells him. But what if I tell him and as is most probable he doesn’t like me and it fucks everything up?!”_

He took a moment to beat his pillow out of frustration before letting his internal raging continue, _“God, I’m pathetic. Thinking about him all the time, putting candy I don’t like in my lunch because I want to give it to him, trying to figure out if I know any little kids I can babysit since he once told me liked children. What the hell is wrong with me?!”_

Breathing deeply, he stood up from his bed, walking to the window, watching as the first snow of the season fell, unable to keep himself from wondering if it snowed a lot where Tino came from and if he’d been missing it.

Trying to apply his analytical mind to his predicament, Berwald took stock: “ _More than anything, I want Tino to be happy. I want to help make him happy, see him smile. Since I don’t know if my feelings for him would make him happy, ergo I can’t justify telling him how I feel.”_

Though he knew this was a perfectly rational conclusion, he spent the rest of the evening in a state of agitation, ignoring inquiring texts from Tino and sniping unnecessarily at Erik. It was only after staying up so late that his eyes involuntarily closed out exhaustion that he let the thought that had been clamoring in the wings cross his mind:

 _Yet._


	6. Avoidance Tactics Never Work

Berwald woke up the following morning, cranky and unsettled, to find the ground covered in a fine dusting of snow. He’d dreamed of a cruel Tino laughing while shooting arrows at his target covered heart. Clearly, his little chat with Feliks had affected him more than he would have liked. Irrationally, Berwald felt as though Feliks’ revelation had rubbed him raw and if Tino took one look at him, he’d instantly be able to read all the longing that Berwald was convinced was permanently etched on his face.

The temptation to avoid the object of his infatuation for several days was strong, though warring against an equal and opposite force that wanted to hang out with Tino no matter how much he embarrassed himself. He’d been drinking coffee and internally debating this very issue, while re-reading Tino’s latest text inviting him to go play with Hanatamgo in the snow, when he logged on to Facebook. He had just started leaning towards “text him back yes” when he clicked on the notification “Feliks has tagged you in a picture”.

 **What.**

 **The.**

 **Hell.**

Berwald gaped at the shoddy macro Feliks had clearly pasted together in Paint. A macro of a fish and a dime, with the tagline that said “Go For It, Berwald!” He was only able to discern Feliks’ less than helpful declaration of encouragement thanks to Ludwig’s mocking comment, “The phrase is CARPE DIEM, not carp dime, you idiot!” (though this verbal smack down didn’t seem to faze Feliks who had simply responded with a XD!).

 _“My friends are morons! There is no way they will keep this a secret from Tino!”_ Berwald despaired, already worrying that Feliks would make getting him and Tino together his new pet project. And if Feliks was involved, Feliciano would doubtless follow, being very invested in matters of love. Irritated and ashamed, he quickly determined that spending a quiet weekend hiding at home to re-strategize before facing them all on Monday was absolutely necessary.

One palm still plastered to his forehead, he used the other hand to send a text to Tino that he had other plans today and couldn’t meet up. Fearing what else the day could throw at him before 9am, he poured his coffee down the drain and went back to bed.

Having spent all of Saturday sulking and worrying, Berwald’s mood on Sunday was not vastly improved. Even his normally obtuse brother expressed concern, asking him “who peed in his Cheerios?” and wondering whether “his little boy-toy had finally wised up and kicked him to the curb?”

Berwald was on the verge of punching him in his smart mouth, when his phone vibrated with another invite from Tino. Waffling, but ultimately deciding he wasn’t yet ready to look at Tino again without wanting to throw up from nerves, he begged off saying he had too much homework.

As Erik had resumed his steady stream of mockery, Berwald was about to resume his planned act of sibling-on-sibling violence, when he got another message from Tino.

Dropping Erik back in his chair, he opened the message to find himself confronted with a picture of the Super-Secret-Tino-Hana-Doubleteam-Pout-Move and a caption of “Boo! Come out and hang with us, Berwald!”

 _“Damn it!”_ Berwald cursed Tino and his irresistible adorableness as his cheeks went scarlet, “How (or why!) should I say no that that face?!”

Clearly enjoying his brother’s discomfort, Erik swiped the phone from his hand, running to the living room before flopping on the couch and taking a look.Whistling in admiration, Erik called out to the now fuming Berwald, “Shit, Little Brother, if you don’t wanna go play in the park with this one, I sure as hell will!”

Angry enough to actually raise his voice, he shouted, “Give me the fucking phone!” while stomping over to the couch.

Erik chuckled and threw it at his chest, where it bounced and fell to the floor. “Calm down, no need to be so angry.” Embarrassed and furious, Berwald quickly typed back a message to Tino apologizing but firmly declining before glaring at his brother.

“By the way, Little Brother,” Erik said nonchalantly while spreading out over the cushions, “Christian and I are throwing a party here this Friday.”

“Why are you telling me?” Berwald scowled, hardly interested in his brother’s latest excuse for binge drinking.

“I want you to invite your friends. Especially that one.”

And Berwald’s temper promptly spiked once again, causing his head to start throbbing in protest.

“Hell no!” He said shortly, before turning to stomp out of the room.

“Now, now, if you don’t do it, I will!” Erik sing-songed at his receding back.

 _“God,”_ Berwald thought as he slammed his bedroom door, determined to spend the rest of the day in isolation, _“this weekend needs to be over.”_

Bright and early on a cold Monday morning, Berwald's only thought was _"It's way too early for this,_ " as the bell chimed and Principal Carriedo took off on his latest flight of fancy.

 ** _“Good morning, my precious tomatoes! Boss hopes you had a wonderful weekend and that you all followed his wise advice and avoided over-watering!"_** Principal Carriedo’s cheerful voice resonated over the intercom, while Berwald stared out the window, studiously trying to avoid making contact with Tino, willing his nerves into submission.

  
 **_“This morning, I would like to impart a very important lesson to my garden! I thought of it this weekend when the snow went and made my yard look so sad. When you are sweet, innocent little gardeners-in-training, you may not always know when it’s time to pick your tomatoes! Are they ripe yet, you wonder? Is now the right time? And though you think about it very carefully and you know they have had sunshine and water and love, because you are not as experienced a gardener as your favorite Boss you do not know if you should take that tomato off the vine. You worry--what if it’s too soon and the poor tomato tastes bad? But do not worry my little henchmen, Boss wants to encourage you to always trust your heart when it comes to tomato harvesting! You’ve learned from the best after all!”_ **

Heart pounding, Berwald was too busy trying to figure out whether or not Principal Carriedo had been speaking directly to him about his little Tino dilemma or giving out what he thought passed for real gardening advice, to notice that Tino had slipped him a note.Chancing a look at Tino’s drawn and anxious face, he quickly opened the paper.

 _Are you mad at me?_

“ _Shit, shit, shit!”_ Berwald thought as he scrambled for a pen, wanting immediately to reassure Tino that he could never, would never, be mad at him. Kicking himself for thinking that avoidance was ever a good tactic, he scribbled back:

 _NO. Sorry, just had a weird weekend._

Tino looked relieved but curious, writing back:

 _What happened?_

Berwald panicked, trying to come up with a good excuse on the fly, only to be saved by Ms. Bruxelles asking everyone to face the front to watch the latest “Don’t Do Drugs” PSA. He dashed off a response,

 _Don’t worry about it. Ride home after school?_

Tino still looked suspicious and a little worried, but nodded his head and turned towards the video.

 _“Saved,”_ Berwald sighed in relief, thankful that he now had six hours to come up with a good reason for his weird weekend that didn’t involve a love confession.

As fate would have it, Berwald didn’t even have an opportunity to try and convince Tino that his weekend weirdness had nothing to do with him as Tino fell asleep five minutes into the drive home. His head was tilted back on the seat rest, mouth fallen open as he breathed softly and slowly. Berwald turned down the radio, content to take this time to be quietly in Tino’s company. Fifteen minutes later as he pulled into Tino’s driveway, putting the car in idle, he took a moment to gaze at Tino without hesitation, letting his eyes track over his slack visage, finding the sight very beautiful. A piece of his hair had slid down over his eyes and Berwald wanted to stroke it back from his forehead.

 _"I love you,"_ he thought as everything in him slowed and narrowed to this moment. _"Even if its irrational and embarrassing, even if its unrequited...and now that I've admitted it to myself..."_

Exhaling and moving slowly so as not to break the peace of the moment, he turned towards Tino. Heart racing wildly, he reached his hand across the console, thinking to himself, _“Maybe Principal Carriedo is right. I should trust my heart if its telling me it’s time to pick my tomato...”_

No sooner had that thought finished and Berwald pulled his hand back as if it was on fire, knocking his head on the steering wheel in frustration.

 _“What the hell is wrong with me?! Am I so pathetic and messed up that first I’m going out of my way to avoid spending time with Tino and now I’m actually listening to anything THAT man said?”_

Pinching the bridge of nose and sighing, Berwald decided it was time to make a decision, and fast, as the noise from his forehead meeting the steering wheel had apparently startled Tino awake. While Tino rubbed his eyes sleepily and yawned, Berwald was coming to a conclusion, _“OK. Since the situation has deteriorated so far that I’m thinking about love and tomato metaphors in the same breath, I clearly have to make a move before I go completely insane and blow any chance I ever had by asking Tino if I can pluck him from the vine and make delicious sauce with him. Fuck, I did it again! I’ll ask Tino to do something this weekend. Something not dog park or debate club related. Dinner and a movie. Yes. And if it goes OK, I’ll tell him how I feel._ ”

Bolstered by his plan and feeling somewhat recovered from his momentary lapse in Carriedo crazy, Berwald was just about to ask Tino to go out with him on Friday night when Tino’s phone chimed, totally breaking his concentration and resolve.

Too busy cursing the universe for being a cockblock, he missed the puzzled look that crossed Tino’s face as he read his message.

“Um, Berwald? According to this message I just got from Feliciano, we’ve all been invited to a party at your house on Friday night? Apparently your brother invited him and told him to make sure we all came?” Tino said, clearly confused.

 _ERIK IS A DEAD MAN._

Gripping the steering wheel to keep from growling and freaking out Tino, Berwald responded, teeth gritted, “Yeah. Forgot about that.”

Tino smiled, “Your brother, huh? You never really talk about him.”

 _“That’s because he’s a rat bastard and I want him as far from you and me as possible”_ , was what he wanted to say, but settled for, “Don’t get along much.” He paused, letting the understatement of the year settle, and continued more hopefully, “Don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

Tino laughed as he climbed out of the car, “Hell no, I love parties! I’m so there. Especially if there’s vodka, even if it makes me a little wild!” He winked (always a racy experience for Berwald), thanked the man for the ride and ran towards the house.

 _“Great,”_ Berwald grumbled as he revved the engine, _“wild-on-vodka Tino is coming the party where my idiot brother will be. Instead of going out with me. Erik is a dead man.”_

 


	7. The Perils of Overwatering

Unfortunately for Berwald’s grandiose revenge plans, his brother wasn’t as stupid as he hoped and Erik had wisely packed up and ran off to parts unknown, leaving a note saying he would be back in time for the party.

By the time Friday afternoon rolled around, Berwald’s anger at his brother had tempered to a manageable level and he’d even managed to catch some of his friends’ enthusiasm for a little party time. He’d sent a text to Erik with explicit instructions to buy vodka for the party, and Erik, assuming this missive meant his small intrusion into his brother’s personal life was forgiven, decided it was safe to come back home. Berwald found him crowding Christian in the kitchen after school on Friday evening, something that wasn’t going over well with the taciturn man. Berwald’s sudden appearance apparently provided Christian the escape he was waiting for as he pushed Erik away and stormed out of the room.

Heaving an exaggerated sigh, Erik turned to Berwald seeking sympathy, “Me thinks he doth protest too much, eh, Berwald? Poor Christian, he doesn’t even know how much he wants me.”

Berwald snorted, enjoying his brother’s romantic misfortune, “Yeah. He’s so overwhelmed with wanting he ran from the room.”

Much to his annoyance, Erik chuckled and ruffled Berwald’s hair, “Tsk-tsk, Little Brother. Clearly you have much to learn about the ways of love. Watch and learn, young one, I’ll have him begging me for it by the end of the night.”

Berwald removed Erik’s hand with a glare, “Whatever. Did you get that vodka I asked for?”

Erik opened the freezer to reveal a large quantity of Finlandia vodka, among other drinks of the alcoholic variety, “I live to serve! Now aren’t you glad that I went ahead and invited all your little friends?”

Berwald stilled, fixing Erik with his most serious look, “Lucky you ran away. Would have kicked your ass had you been here.”

Erik laughed uproariously before leaving the room, “You would have tried. Tried and failed!”  

Several hours later, Berwald was a tangle of nerves, both excited and worried about the prospect of having Tino in his house and in close proximity to booze and his obnoxious brother. He was nursing a beer, ignoring Erik’s antics with his friends in the background, vaguely approving of Christian’s sullen refusal to acknowledge Erik’s idiocy, when the door opened to reveal and harried looking Ludwig and a chipper Feliciano.

Feliciano gave Berwald a joyful hug and thrust a bottle of Chianti in to his hands, shouting “Hiiiiiiiii! Thank you so much for inviting us, Berwald!,” before promptly running off to give Erik an equally enthusiastic greeting.

Ludwig settled for a manlier handshake. Recovered from Hurricane Feliciano, Berwald turned the bottle of wine over in his hands, quirking an eyebrow at Ludwig.

Ludwig shrugged, “When I showed up at Feliciano’s house, that asshole Vargas shoved Feliciano out the door, threw the bottle of wine at me and told us to get out and stay out for at least six hours. I think he had someone coming over or something, he was wearing enough cologne for two people and seemed extra annoyed.”

Berwald nodded, “Probably waiting for the Tomato.”

Ludwig turned a slight shade of green, “Great. Thanks for that image, Berwald. Now I need a drink. And to find that idiot Italian before he does something stupid.”

Berwald waved a hand indicating the general direction of the booze. As Ludwig stalked off, the door opened again to reveal Feliks and Toris, accompanied by the person he simultaneously wanted to see the most and the least. He gave Feliks and Toris a cursory greeting before taking a long moment to slyly look Tino over from top to bottom. Nice, form fitting jeans. Check. Cute blue button-up shirt. Check. An adorable…scowl?! _“Wait!”_ Berwald’s mind screeched to a halt, “Why is Tino glaring at me?”

Unsure of what was going on, he gestured for Tino to come in, meekly saying hello. Tino came in, promptly placing his hands on his hips and giving Berwald a very scary look of displeasure, “You!”

Berwald swallowed, “Me?”

Tino frowned, “You’re such a liar! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me sooner.”

Feeling all the color drain from his face, Berwald croaked, “Tell you what?”

Tino flailed, replying with no small amount of exasperation, “You totally don’t live anywhere near me! You said driving me home was on your way! It’s like super NOT on your way!”

Berwald blinked, attempting to recover from what he thought was impending doom, “Oh. That.”

“Yes, that! I can’t imagine how much gas you’ve been wasting!” Tino shook his head at the now chagrined Berwald.

Much to his relief and annoyance, Erik chose that exact moment to come bounding into the hallway, hollering, “This must be Tino! Introduce me, Berwald! Unless you’re too much of a chickenshit to let him see the hot one in our family.”

While tempted to shove Tino back out the front door, he couldn’t ignore Tino’s curious expression and begrudgingly made the introductions.

Erik gave Tino what Berwald thought of as his smarmiest smile, though his brother doubtless believed it to be incredibly charming, “Well, Tino. You are adorable. You are definitely welcome to my party.” He paused, throwing an arm around his increasingly irate brother, “Now, then Little Berwald, I command you to get this adorable creature a drink.”

Berwald shot Erik a poisonous look before leading Tino to the kitchen. He was deeply amused by Tino’s ecstatic reaction to the Finlandia vodka and crossed his fingers that perhaps he’d been forgiven for the whole driving thing. Drinks in hand they joined up with Ludwig, Feliciano, Toris, and Feliks. Feliciano appeared to be making good on his brother’s generosity, drinking the Chianti like it was going out of style. Ludwig was slowly drinking a beer, keeping a wary eye on Feliciano’s rate of consumption. Toris was mocking whatever liquors Feliks had thrown together to make his frothy pink monstrosity. They’d hardly sat down when Tino jumped up again having already finished his drink.

Feliks laughed, “Wow, dude, you can like really put it away!”

Tino smiled winningly, shaking his empty glass, “Of course I can! I’m Finnish!”

This happened several more times, Tino apparently not kidding about his hereditary drinking prowess. Berwald considered being concerned, but he was too busy enjoying the cute pink flush on Tino’s cheeks and how Tino kept inching closer and closer to him on the sofa with each drink, to the point where he was almost sitting in his lap. Berwald thought about trying to hold his hand or maybe putting an arm around his shoulder, but it was way too mortifying to try to pull such a move in front of his friends, who were paying a keen amount of interest in the Berwald-and-Tino show.

Tino giggled, reaching across Berwald for to retrieve his once again empty glass, before pouting when he discovered it was filled only with melted ice once again. He attempted to push himself up from the couch, only to lose his footing and fall back down, squarely on top of Berwald, who promptly put his arms around Tino’s waist to steady him. It was as nice a feeling as he’d imagined it would be, though the moment was too fleeting, as Tino immediately tried to stand again, undeterred from his quest for booze.

Berwald reluctantly released him and started to stand himself, only to have Tino push him back down and wave off his help, declaring, “No, no, stay here, Berwald! I’m totally fine. I’ll just go get another drink, k?”

Berwald nodded in agreement, settling back down and watching Tino wander off in the direction of his beloved vodka. After a few minutes, Berwald began to grow anxious, keeping one eye on the door to the kitchen, wondering what was keeping Tino. The others were too engrossed in their conversations to notice, but Berwald’s sixth sense for Tino told him something was not right.

Worried, he stood up and stalked off in the direction of the kitchen, hoping he wouldn’t find Tino puking in the sink or passed out. After opening the door he could only wish that he’d found Tino puking or passed out, or anything other than the nightmare turned to reality that he discovered.

There was Tino, leaning against the counter, smiling and leaning into Erik, who had his armed wrapped around Tino’s shoulders and was whispering into his ear, while he ran his fingers along Tino’s wrist. And Tino wasn’t moving away. Wasn’t pushing him off.

Berwald couldn’t even register the feeling of his heart breaking through the furious rage that ignited in his blood. In an instant he was across the kitchen, hauling his still smiling brother away from Tino before throwing him across the kitchen table, sending several empty bottles crashing to the floor. Holding him by the collar, he slammed Erik into the table once, then twice, before Ludwig and Toris came running in and pulled him away.

He was still struggling to break from their hold, when Erik sat up, rubbing the back of his head. Infuriated, Berwald barely managed to notice that Erik wasn’t looking at him, or at Tino, but staring straight at Christian, who was standing in the corner of the kitchen, his face etched with anger and a tinge of jealousy. Refusing to shame himself further in front of Tino, Berwald shook off Ludwig’s arm, before fleeing outside, chest heaving and eyes stinging.

Huddling in the darkness, attempting to regain control over his emotions, Berwald heard Tino’s worried voice as it floated through the open door. Though he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear anything Tino had to say right then, he couldn’t help but strain his ears to listen.

“Feliks! Let me go! I need to go check on Berwald.”

Feliks responded insistently, “No, trust me on this. Let him be for a minute.”

Tino sighed, “I’m worried! I’ve never seen Berwald so angry. I wonder what set him off…”

Berwald held his breath in the time it took for Feliks to respond, surprised by the biting tone of the other man’s answer, “Tino, you know I adore you, but seriously, don’t be a dumb blond. I think you know exactly what set him off. You have to know.”

Berwald’s heart stopped. There was only silence. Tino apparently had no response to this, no response whatsoever to Berwald’s painfully obvious crush. He felt as though every good feeling within him curled up and whimpered in sympathy.

Over the rushing of his blood in his ears, he barely heard Feliks tell Tino that it was best if they just go. Berwald waited for several minutes for going back inside, climbing the stairs to his room with legs that felt like lead and a heart in pieces. Leaving the lights off and his clothes on, he fell onto the bed, a little drunk and a lot devastated.

Almost immediately his phone started buzzing with concerned text messages. Unwilling to see if any of them were from Tino, not wanting to read what he believed could only be words of pity or mockery, Berwald turned his phone off and wished for a dreamless sleep to come.  


	8. Revelations and Rebuttals

The next morning, having suffered terrible sleep and dreams that left him feeling bereft, Berwald dared to venture downstairs in search of coffee to sooth the awful ache of his head and his heart. He was surprised to find Christian sitting at the table, wearing one of Erik’s shirts, sporting a sizable love bite on his neck.

Bitterly, Berwald shook his head as he reached for the coffee pot. Voice dripping with scorn, he threw over his shoulder, “Looks like Erik was right. You were begging for it by the end of the night.”

Seemingly unfazed by Berwald’s hostility, Christian shrugged, answering calmly, “Your brother is an idiot. That little show with that irritating Finnish kid was a pathetic attempt to make me jealous.”

Staring pointedly at Christian’s ugly purple hickey, Berwald replied, “Clearly you fell for it. Seems you’re an idiot, too.”

Christian sipped his coffee, one hand reaching up to the mark on his neck, stroking it thoughtfully. He pushed back from the table, hand still covering the mark, turning to Berwald before opening the door, “Perhaps I am. I wonder if we’re not all idiots when it comes to this.” He paused, gesturing to a small box on the counter, “By the way, you might be interested to know that a certain someone dropped this off for you very early this morning.”

Pulse accelerating, Berwald grabbed the box, before sitting down and opening the lid to find a folded note and a piece of his favorite coffee cake. Hands shaking, he read the note with trepidation:

 _Dear Berwald,_

 _I am so sorry about last night. It definitely, no way, was not what you thought it was. I’m worried about you. There are so many things I need to tell you._

 _Please answer your messages so I can know you are ok and that we can be friends again._

 _-Tino_

 _Ps—I thought maybe I should bring you your favorite for once._

Berwald’s mind was awash in mixed feelings. Happy that Tino knew what his favorite dish was, upset with himself that he’d made Tino worry enough to bring him breakfast foods, relieved that Tino still apparently wanted to speak to him, disappointed that he’d used the word friends, curious as to what Tino needed to tell him, terrified of how to move forward.

While he ate the coffee cake, he summoned his will and turned his phone on, only to be inundated with messages. He deleted any that weren’t from Tino, figuring he could put off any explanations to his friends until his Tino crisis had been dealt with. He clicked through an increasingly frantic set of texts from Tino:

 _11:30pm_

 _Are you OK? What happened back there?_

 _11:40pm_

 _I’m really sorry. Please answer._

 _11:50pm_

 _I feel like a total jerk. I don’t know what I’d do without you._

 _12:15am_

 _I’m home now. Head’s spinning. Wish you would respond._

 _7:05am_

 _Head now hurting. Not knowing how you are is even worse than the hangover._

 _7:30am_

 _Feliks and I are driving over to your house. He’s super pissed I dragged him out of bed but I don’t care. I need to talk to you. I hope you’ll answer the door._

 _8:00am_

 _That weird friend of your brother’s answered, said you were sleeping. I hope you like the cake. If you still want to talk to me, will you meet me this morning? 11am—dog park. I have something I need to tell you._

Sighing as he read the last of the messages, Berwald looked at the clock. 10am. Not much time to decide what to do, but he knew he couldn’t leave Tino like this, clearly upset and doubting their friendship. Though it hurt to know that Tino apparently didn’t return his more tender feelings, Berwald was resolved to keep him in his life. But there were things he had to say, thoughts he had to get out at least once. Groaning, Berwald rubbed his aching head, thinking to himself, _“Christ. I am going to have to do a lot of talking_.”

Pulling up Tino’s last message, he typed a succinct response:

 _Thanks for the cake. Didn’t have to do that. 11am, I’ll be there. I need to talk to you too_.

He hit send with all the enthusiasm of a man walking to his own execution before going forth to prepare to meet his fate.

An hour later, bundled up against the cold November morning, Berwald pulled up to the dog park with his heart in his throat, the butterflies in his stomach having morphed into pterodactyls. Closing his eyes and reciting what he wanted to say one more time, he got out of the car and made his way towards Tino and Hanatamago.

Tino immediately turned towards him, anxiety and apology written all over his face, rushing to Berwald’s side.

Clutching at Berwald’s coat, Tino hurriedly spoke, “Oh thank God you came! Berwald, I am so so so sorry for last night. I know how it must have looked to you and I feel terrible that you had to see something so stupid and unnecessary. I’m a shitty friend and I know I don’t deserve it, but can you forgive me?”

Berwald cleared his throat, looking down into Tino’s eyes, lovely as ever. He held up a hand to indicate that he had something to say, before starting to speak, voice so low Tino had to lean in even closer to hear it,

“Nothing to be sorry for. Course I forgive you. I’m sorry if I scared you when I went after Erik.” He paused, taking a breath before looking away, unable to say the next part with Tino looking at him, “Thing is, I like you. More than like you.” Blushing harder than ever before, he barely noticed Tino’s sharp intake of breath, determined to finish what he had to say, “Seeing you close to him just made me snap. Wasn’t fair of me to do that in front of you. I want you to be happy…” He swallowed, feeling the telltale pricks in the corner of his eyes, “Even if you never feel anything more than friendship for me. Even if it’s with someone else.”

Declaration finished, Berwald continued to look away, trying to stem the tide of his unhappiness from overwhelming him. Several moments of absolute silence passed before Tino spoke.

“Are you finished?”

Berwald nodded, head still turned. When he felt a small hand creep into his pocket, cold fingers intertwining with his own, he whipped around so fast he almost fell over.

Tino squeezed his hand, gently demanding Berwald’s attention. As far as Berwald was concerned there was nothing else in the world.

Smiling, Tino said, “Good. Because I’m afraid I have a pretty good rebuttal to your argument.”

Hope started to seep into the cracks in Berwald’s heart as he took in Tino’s words.

“First, I have to tell you that in no way do I want to be close to your brother. As is turns out, the only person I want to be close to is you.” Tino stated confidently.

Berwald stared blankly, his mind unable to process what he’d just heard. _“Could this actually be happening?!_ , he thought as the pterodactyls in his stomach threatened to break free. He opened his mouth to ask why, only to have Tino hold up his free hand, halting his speech.

“Before you ask why, and really Berwald, you should know that it’s not allowed to ask questions during the opposing team’s rebuttal, I think you should hear my evidence.”

Astonished and elated, Berwald could only nod.

Smile growing even brighter, Tino pressed closer, before continuing, “Good! Listen closely, this is important!

1\. You are without doubt the kindest, most awesome person I know.

2\. You make me laugh all the time.

3\. When you’re embarrassed, like right now, you turn red just like a tomato and I can’t help but want to squeeze you.

4\. I know that deep down you secretly think Principal Carriedo’s advice is great.

5\. When I feel nervous at matches, just knowing you are in the stands gives me the confidence to make my next shot.

6\. Hanatamago likes you.

7\. I like you. I just wished I had said something before today so we could have avoided last night.

8\. Being with you makes me so happy. And I want to make you happy, too. So much.”

By the time Tino finished his list, Berwald was indeed flushed redder than a tomato, happier than he’d ever been. He was pretty sure that if the world had ended at that very moment he wouldn’t have minded.

Tino tugged on his arm, forcing him to look down into his adorably pink tinged and smiling face. Hands still clasped, Tino stood on his toes to whisper in his ear, sending lovely shivers down his spine, “Any questions? Would you like to make a rebuttal of your own?”

Still unable to speak, Berwald quickly shook his head. Tino settled back on to heels, a sly look on his face.

“Very good. Now for my final statement…”

As Tino reached up to put an arm around his neck, gently encouraging him to bend slightly, the only thought going through Berwald’s mind was “ _Final statement? There’s no final statement in debate…”_ until he felt the press of Tino’s lips against his, felt Tino’s pretty smile on his, drowning out all further cognitive abilities.

 _Oh!_

 _Ohhhhhhh….THAT final argument._

He managed to snap out of his kiss induced stupor long enough to place his hands on Tino’s hips, growing bold enough to tilt his head to deepen the kiss, taking more pleasure than he ever thought was possible from the murmur of Tino’s approving “mmmmm” on his lips. It was more amazing than the thousand times he pictured this moment. Never in his most secret and treasured dreams did he think it would be like this.

Tino pulled back from the kiss, resting his head over Berwald’s heart, which was apt to explode at any moment. Feeling like nothing could topple him now, Berwald let his hands stroke up and down Tino’s back, indulged himself in running his fingers through the ends of his pretty hair. Tino hummed contentedly, his own hands rubbing circles over Berwald’s hips. Tino laughed a little, turning his face towards Berwald, eyes smiling.

“Looks like I won our debate. Guess you’ll have to give up your crown, Mr. Debate King.”

Berwald chose not to dignify that with a response, preferring instead to kiss his prince once again.


	9. In the End, It Always Comes Back to Facebook

**Berwald Oxenstierna** and **Tino Väinämöinen** are in a relationship. <3

6 people like this!

 

 **Feliks Lukasiewicz:** OMGS!!!!! Like, finally! XD I told that carping your diem would work out, Berwald!!!

 **Feliciano Vargas** :  This is so sweet!!! @Ludwig Beilschmidt, can we make it Facebook official, too!?

 **Ludwig Beilschmidt** :  Congrats. @Felicianco Vargas, NEIN! I’m not looking to get killed by your asshole brother.

 **Feliciano Vargas** :  :( :( Don’t be scared of Lovi!

 **Principal Carriedo** :  It makes Boss so happy to see two of his precious tomatoes decide to share a vine! Like me and my favorite little henchman, @Lovino Vargas.

 **Lovino Vargas** :  What hell are you talking about, you tomato obsessed idiot!!!! We are NOT in a relationship. @Ludwig Beilschmidt, stay the hell away from my brother!! @Feliciano Vargas, don’t call me Lovi, you little shit.

 **Berwald Oxenstierna:** @Principal Carriedo @Lovino Vargas, How did you get access to my facebook page?!?!

 **Erik The Awesome** :  XD XD SURPRISE!

 **Berwald Oxenstierna** :  @Erik The Awesome, I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!!

 **Tino** **Väinämöinen** :  @Berwald Oxenstierna, leave the killing for later and get over here so we can make-out <3

 **Berwald Oxenstierna** :  @Tino _Väinämöinen_ , OMW. @everyone else, shut-up.

 

~End


End file.
